Is That Andy?

Today has been pretty much awesome, except one thing. and this one thing, this hour of my day, has been on my mind and getting me more and more upset. It’s just under my skin and can’t stop thinking about it. I’m in this class. Oral Interpertation. It’s pretty much the worst class ever. You read stories to each other, and somehow, Richard Attenborough give you a grade based on what you do. My story last time was “Where the Wild Things Are,” by Maurice Sendak. A simple, easy, childrens book. I got my grade sheet back in my maibox. 51. 51 out of 100. Yes. One point over half. He pretty much tore me up. “not enough movement,” “pitch rut,” “bad delievery,” “short on time.” Now, normally I just say whatever. But he keeps telling us that it’s going to get harder and harder and the stakes are just going to raise. On the bottom of my paper, he wrote “Andy, we need to talk - soon.” Today, after class, we talked. I told him how much I hated that class, how much I hated being some acting weirdo. I told him how much I hated that class and that I really wanted to quit. He won’t let me quit…and now, on top of the time I spend at home reading stupid stories and feeling ridiculous talking in front of a mirror and timing myself, we [Richard and myself] have counseling sessions three times a week to work on my acting. What a load of shit. This is me, very unhappy about this crap.

The rest of the day was amazing, and I am thankful for that. Tree of Life in the morning, Lunch with good buddies, and lunch a second time with some crazy gypsy girl. Tonight I am going to see the power team. Yippee?